The Washington critic., 1887-09-13
AT SUTTON'S CLEARING.
A story of tho Late civil War.

"Sutton's Clearing" was Off the main
road, and It was only by penetrating to
It through dense bit of woodland that
Ii was reached. Small wonder, then,
that as the distant war in Virginia
drained the country OF Its sparse popu.
lation, fewer and fewer feet turned
aside from the big road, attracted by
the curling Of the smoke from Cap
Sutton's chimney, or by the sound of
Dawes axe estroke. The links that
bound him to this world seemed so few
and frail that he wondered at himself
In q sort Of contemptuous surprise that
he had not long ago given himself up
as food for powder.
Doubtless, If he had been born at
the big house, instead of at the over
' seer's house In the quarter lot, he would
have been In hotter haste than Fred.
and AL. had been to spring to the de-
fense of his rights. But having moth.
ing at stake. he had been better quail.
fled for looking at the question all
around, and in his unalded judgment
he had decided that the precedent of
rtOtsbluu was u Dttl Dlt. Ilc lOUh no
high moral grounds. He was quite
sure that the white people of his sec.
tion were making mistake, but In his
aloofness he often grew 80 morbidly
disgusted with inaction that he was
half tempted to throw himself into the
thing on one side or the other, just to
end the never.ending discussion over
II that his own reason waged against
his own belligerent instincts.
Into this scene Of moral and physi-
cal isolation small personality was
intruded late one afternoon as he paced
restlessly up and down the rough
planks of his little gallery with his
shapely brown hands clutching at the
lapels of his jeans coat. 1t was Mandy
who belonged to the Boston governess
over at Colonel Kafe Sutton's, and she
had been instructed with very deli.
cate mission, so delicate that the gov.
erness had drilled her ambassadress by
word of mouth. fearful of involving
some one else in trouble, II she should
commit her message to paper.
She had emerged suddenly from the
close ranks Of the trees, plunging her
ashy bare heels vigorously Into the
left flank of an unhappy looking mule
whom she had captured with some diff
ficulty in the broad open, corntields
where the cookie burrs had dis.
puted supremacy with the neglected
grain. Across Its bare back she had
flung an old gunny sack. and between
It's unwilling jaws she had thrust the
rusty snafllebit to her rope bride.
The exertion of urging her steed to
Its utmost speed had disarranged her
draperies somewhat, and her head
handkerchief was prevented from part,
ing company with her head altogether
only by vicious grip Of Its autterlng
ends, which she maintained with her
strong white teeth. Cap watched her
with grim smile as she clambered
down over the rail fence and ran MIN.
bly, towards the gallery with face
full of importance, tying her bandanna
afresh as she ran. "Miss Fanny say
was 10 get hyer In hurry" she said
projecting her eager voice In advance
of her scurrying feet, zen she say l
was to AK you did you know de gin.
burners was bout ag'n?"
"Gln.burners Fools !"
He stopped amazedly. He knew
that six months before nearly every
gin in the lower part of the county had
been burned by order of man who
had gone out In command of one OF
the earlier companies, and who enun.
ciated the remarkable theory that the
sooner every bale of cotton was de.
stroyed the quicker the struggle would
end. But he supposed that phase OF
madness had passed away and the
frenzled ebullition of patriotism which
had dictated 1t had long subsidized; but
here was Mandy, ragged and bare
footed, painting out her startling infor
nation of Its revival as dictated by the
governess with an earnestness which
compelled credence.
She was elated withal: "Yas, Stree
dey is dat, en- Miss Fanny toll me T. tel
you she skeered t write, fear some
body nout TEX de letter from me, but
lax Z see de man could TEX letter from
me (rlsing infectlon). chaw 'em VI
fus'." (Whether the letter or the In
termeddler was to have been "chawet
up" Mandy did not stop to explain.
En- Miss Fanny, she say, she lowed
ef you knowed how much trouble dt
wife folks at de big house WAS In
mebbe you'd try to help EN- some
En- she say as how was { tell you sh,
heern de gin burners would be dar t
dis ve'y night, en- po' Mars Couel, h,
down wild tiphone fever, en- Mars Al
he daid. en- Miss Nellie, she don dc
nuthin but cry, en- cry, en- cry"
Yes, he had known It all But wha
could he do2 He had felt severa
times since hearing of AIS death as /
1t was sort Of pity that 1t hadn't beer
himself instead; but somehow or othe
things never did work quite right II
this world. He had been quite fond o
AL. He was manly, straightforward
fellow, with no rich mans nonsens
about him. True, he, Cap, remembered
smiling triile scornfully when he hat
heard about the silver boot-hooks an(
the darkey valet AL had started ou
with as part of his soldiers outfit; bu
he had died hero's death for all that
and he knew that the big house tina
had once been opened to him to Civ
him chance had been the home o
bitter mourning ever since.
And he knew that, all things beinl
equal, life could have furnished II,
sweeler duty than to have comforteC
Miss Nellie, AIS sister, aud to huy,
wiped every tear from her eyes, bu
the gulf between him and the people O
the big houle had been widening ever
year, until now they seemed to live Il
another planet, SO distant thai 1t seemet
presumption even for fancy to pene
trate into its raritled atmosphere. Yes
he knew all the troubles that had over
taken the Colonel In his old age. Bu
what could he dor What did thi
wide awake governess over at hi
cousin Rafe's mean by sending he
ragged ambassadress to notify him
Mandy stood before him, with he